


A Tale of Two Blacks

by acronical (midnightfalling)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Sirius Black, Horcrux Hunting, Horcruxes, Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Unreliable Narrator, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-08-08 00:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightfalling/pseuds/acronical
Summary: In which Arcturus frees Sirius from Azkaban and sets off a chain of events that lead to the rise of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.





	1. Carefully Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is a story I've been dwelling on lately so I finally decided to write it down. The first chapter is slow, but it mostly serves to set up the narrative.

December 19th, 1981

Confusion was a welcome change, a reprieve from the despair. Sirius was almost giddy at the frustration and confusion bubbling up in him. He was more clear-headed than he had been the entire previous month. Even with all the uncertainty. No one he interacted with had been forthcoming with any information. Not the surly guards who had fetched him from his cell in Azkaban, nor the officious law wizard who had greeted him in the Ministry interrogation room. He hadn’t the faintest why they had brought him back from that hell-hole. None of his pleas and demands in the wake of his initial incarceration had made any difference. The few human guards were more likely to let loose a few harmless hexes than listen to him. 

Weeks with the dementors had passed without anyone coming to see him. No news from the other Order members. Nothing from Remus, his fellow Marauder. His family. 

They were the only two left. Peter-- the rat -- was as good as dead to him. He regretted not being able to bring him in when he had the chance. Regretted putting the fate of his bond-brother in Peter’s hands. It should have been him. Maybe then James and Lily would still be alive. He didn’t even know if Remus knew the truth. The veil of secrecy over all their actions had taken its toll. Eroded the trust and the bonds he had believed would last forever. Instead they were all broken apart, drifting in the chaos left by Voldemort’s absence. And Harry. Poor little Harry who must be so alone. 

He needed to focus. Sirius would have plenty of time to dwell when he was returned to his cell; the dementors would make sure his grief was overwhelming enough then. 

Whatever was going to happen, he hoped it was positive. Perhaps Dumbledore or Remus had finally come to hear the truth from him. Come to release him and take him to his godson. 

As the door opened, Sirius squinted past the lights to the opening. Instead of the auror he expected or the friends he hoped for, Arcturus Black stood in the doorway. His grandfather’s face was as impassive as ever. The stern countenance revealed little about his presence in the interrogation room. Sirius’ heart sank. Nothing good could come of further House Black involvement in his life. 

Grey eye – so like his – studied him. Sirius tried not to shrink back from the gaze. A brief pause and Arcturus swept into the room, waving the door shut behind him. 

Sirius had not seen his grandfather in years. The last time had been a year after he had run away when his Uncle Alphard passed away. Even before then the Black Patriarch had been largely absent from Black affairs, leaving the day-to-day management to Orion. Regardless, he would have thought the remaining Blacks would be satisfied to see the last of him. No danger of his embarrassing the family existed if all of wizarding society forgot about him, locked away on an island. Then again, maybe they had come to express their glee. If they were stupid enough to believe he had seen the error of his ways, that he had given in and served their precious Lord – well, the memory of snubbing his nose at his family one last time would keep him warm back in Azkaban.

The elder man hadn’t even bothered to take a seat, towering over Sirius’ hunched form at the single table in the room. His grandfather’s continued scrutiny chipped at his air of calm. Sirius clung to it, sprawling in his chair with an expectant look on his face. Petty perhaps, but he refused to be the one to break the silence. Sirius was not going to make it easy for Arcturus. 

His spine stiffened, tension creeping into his body the longer the standoff went; a scowl began to form on Sirius’ face. Arcturus, the old bastard, didn’t miss his actions. A single eyebrow rose, another beat, and then his posh tones broke the silence.

“The trial is set for the end of the week. We will not have time for a tailor to come in, but suitable robes will be brought to you. A cleaning charm and a grooming spell will not be amiss either. It is as respectable as you will be able to manage within the time constraint the Ministry has consented to give us.” 

Shock. The numbness from the last month returned, stealing away his words, clouding his thoughts. A disconnect existed between Arcturus’ claims and Sirius’ reality. If anyone fought for his release, he had expected Dumbledore, at the behest of Remus or of his own volition. Moody at a stretch. Moody who had been partial to him after he had proved himself on order missions and who had some influence among the aurors. He hadn’t entertained the notion his family might help him. The disdain in Arcturus’ voice was grounding. A familiar tone that confirmed this moment was real and not something his tortured mind had dreamed up. After all, the idea that the Ministry saw fit to push around an ancient house like the Blacks must be galling to his grandfather. 

But still. Arcturus had cared little of wizarding politics the last few years. He had not intervened when Sirius ran away. He had not stopped Andy’s disownment. He had not prevented Orion from pushing the remaining family closer to Voldemort’s service. Now he was here as if nothing had changed. Like Sirius was a young child needing direction. The ever-present anger he felt for his family came boiling to the surface. 

A laugh escaped him. Bitter and hoarse at the only amusement he had had for weeks. Words failed to capture the sheer incredulousness he felt. What world had he stepped into that night? What strange magic happened the night James left him? Somehow shy Peter was a traitor, outwitting them all. The wizarding world believed he betrayed James. And now Arcturus Black was playing white knight. When had it all started to unravel? Must be that he was cursed from birth to have his life be one long cosmic joke. 

“I fail to see what you find humorous, Sirius Orion.” His grandfather’s curtness cut straight through his laughter.

“You will face the full Wizengamot in three days’ time. After Bellatrix’ disgraceful display three weeks ago, House Black will be hard pressed to find any willing allies.”

Sirius quickly sobered as he registered his grandfather’s words. Bellatrix must have been captured. Sirius had not heard her in Azkaban, but it was possible she had been jailed in a different section than he. Her actions must have been public and gruesome for the family’s reputation to have suffered. The pureblood circles tended to give a lot of leeway to members of the noble and most ancient houses. A public scandal explained why his grandfather deigned to intervene on his behalf. Sirius couldn’t help but worry over who have been hurt in the crossfire. Bellatrix was vicious and cruel on her good days. He could too easily picture the havoc she wreaked in the wake of her beloved master’s fall. He was sure other Death Eaters had taken advantage of all the confusion falling the events at Godric’s Hollow. Some to enact revenge like Bellatrix and others who slid back into their positions in polite society without pause. 

His thoughts spun, his grandfather’s voice droning in the background. “The case will rely entirely on your testimony and ability to convince the body of your innocence. We have requested, and you will submit, to Veritaserum.”

The ironclad confidence in his innocence struck him. Grandfather may have been out of politics for years, but he knew the game better than anyone. He would not have risked Veritserum unless he knew with certainty what Sirius would reveal. How ironic that it was the Black name that had suspicion constantly dogging his steps. An ever-present shadow he could not leave behind no matter where he ran. For the Backs to be the ones to express such faith in his character and loyalty to James – he did not know what to think

He had no way of knowing what the Order had been up to since Voldemort’s fall. No way of knowing whether they had doubted the official story. Whether they had been quick to dismiss him as another evil Black or trusted his loyalty. For all he knew, Arcturus was simply using him to repair any damage to the house’s reputation. A convenient pawn to fix their ruin. Years without contact, of a lack of support when he needed it, and now they came to him. He resented the implication that he was still theirs to do their bidding. His parents had been pleased to be rid of him. He recalled all too well the fuss Orion had made about the inheritance Uncle Alphard left him, unwilling to let the ‘filthy traitor’ see a single knut of Black money. No sign of his grandfather through all those fights, yet here he was behaving as if no ill will existed between Sirius and the family. 

“I don’t see how my situation is of any concern to House Black,” he muttered, voice laced with derision. “A disowned son is hardly _worthy_ enough to pull the Black Patriarch back from his restful retirement.”

“Cease with the foolishness, Sirius. I hardly believe you are in a position to deny any assistance you are offered.” 

Here Sirius opened his mouth to hotly protest. To voice his faith that with a little more time, his true family would come to him. “My friends—”

He was prevented from continuing by another raised eyebrow and sly look from his grandfather as he cut him off. “After all, none of your other… friends…have come forward on your behalf.” 

The words had the impact Arcturus aimed for. The smug bastard. In a few words he stunned Sirius into silence and dispelled any illusion Sirius might have held that his friends still trusted him. That they had given him the benefit of the doubt after the past few years risking his life to fight by their side. He might have been more inclined to call his grandfather a liar if so much time had not passed by already. It fed in to the hopeless thoughts the dementors had cultivated. 

“I can have you returned to Azkaban if you prefer. The Ministry will no doubt be pleased to expedite the withdrawal of my demand for trial proceedings. The choice is yours.”

Sirius chafed under his grandfather’s words. At the neat way he had been backed into a corner. Arcturus knew he had no other option just as Sirius knew his grandfather would not be satisfied until he gave a verbal reply. An acknowledgement of his submission to his grandfather’s dealings. 

Self-preservation and ingrained instincts kicked in as he swallowed down another acid retort. Above all he had to remember Harry. His beautiful godson who needed him. His last tie to James. He would take any way out of this mess that meant he could be reunited with little Harry. 

He glanced away from his grandfather, staring at the blank white walls. He did not want to have to look at him as he did what he swore he would never do again. Submit to the House Black. 

He pushed down his pride, voice low and tight as he spoke, “It will not be necessary, grandfather. I appreciate your assistance.”

“I am glad to see you have some sense left.”

His eyes flickered back in time to see Arcturus’ gracious nod of acceptance. Sirius ground his teeth together in an effort not to lash out. If what his grandfather said was true, he could not afford to anger him. He would use the Blacks as they used him, and then leave once he had Harry safe with him. They may expect the obedience of a good little Black family member in his gratefulness, but he would not give it. With the loss of Regulus and the men of his mother’s generation, the old hag would no doubt expect him to come to heel. He would delight in disappointing her. 

“To business as I have other matters to attend to today.” The effects of Azkaban still lingered. His grandfather's sharp voice cut through the haze his mind had floated into again. 

“The family solicitor will be by the day of the trial. Higgs will have your robes and will assist you with the trial preparations. Higgs will review the list of questions to ensure all is appropriate. Once the trial has concluded, we will immediately file a complaint for unlawful imprisonment and defamation of a member of a noble and most ancient house.”

Ah, the truth revealed. More wealth to fill the coffers of House Black. Another reason to remember why he owed them nothing. Arcturus must have gleaned the direction of his thoughts, as he waved a dismissive gesture at him. 

“Until then, I shall see you remain in a Ministry holding cell. You may discuss any further concerns with Higgs when he arrives.” 

With those parting words, his grandfather left the room as grandly as he entered it. Sirius was left with nothing but his regrets. Impotent to change his circumstances. His priority needed to be gaining his freedom and securing Harry. Anything else – any confrontations and family drama – could wait. 

With two days to go until the trial, he doubted he would be successful at not dwelling on negative thoughts. Even planning for a future with Harry kept bringing his thoughts circling back to his grief and loss. To the reason Sirius was now the one who would need to make decisions for the little boy. Not James. Not Lily. 

He sighed and slumped over on the table. 

It would be a long two days.

* * *

Arcturus felt the rush of the family magic as he floo-ed into the manor. It was a welcome sensation after a trying morning. As good as drinking a pepper-up potion. 

Although his errands today had been completed as planned, Arcturus was saddened they were necessary at all. If he had kept a tighter rein on the management of the family, there was a chance certain events would not have come to pass. He had been too indifferent; too confident in the invincibility of House Black. For his naivety, his son had driven the House to near extinction. 

He and Pollux were the remaining male members of the House who had not been killed or implicated in some way by the latest wizarding war. Married daughters of House Black there were plenty, but all had fallen under the sway of their husbands’ families. Considering House Black was the oldest and wealthiest of the noble families, they should have had primacy. No united House Black remained to demand the respect owed. Soon that would change. Arcturus had had two years to plan. Two years to devise a way for the Black family to return to the glory of his youth. 

Bringing Sirius back into the fold was key to his plans. His grandson had always been an emotional boy, impulsive and rash. He had suffered under the domineering nature of his parents and their beliefs. Hate the Blacks he might, but the boy had all the markings of a member of their family. Arcturus had been pleased to see him at the Ministry today. Glad the weeks in Azkaban had not broken Sirius’ spirit. The family would have need of a bold and fearless Lord to lead them in the coming decades. 

How any person could believe the utter falsehoods the papers wrote about Sirius was beyond him. Everything worked in absolutes with his grandson. James Potter and his band of merrymakers had had Sirius’ absolute loyalty since the day he had fled Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore was a fool to disregard Sirius. His grandson would not be so quick to forget the disservice done to him, which would only benefit Arcturus. Whether or not the old man believed his grandson was moot point. Arcturus was positive the headmaster had plans of his own, and he would make him regret the day Dumbledore considered his grandson disposable for the greater good.  
 


	2. Trials of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the trial has arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read the story! I'm so excited to keep sharing more of it with you. As promised, a slightly longer chapter as the narrative starts moving along.

**December 21st, 1981**

The Ministry holding cell was miserable. Not as hellish as the Dementors but close. 

The treatment he received from the aurors holding him made It obvious none of them believed his innocence. Many muttered about the Black family strong-arming their heir out of prison; the angry ones got away with more than just nasty words. Sirius paid particular attention to them, never having let a slight go. The ones from old families managed some civility at the least. Sirius figured they were waiting to see the outcome of the trial. 

With his freedom a real possibility in the near future, Sirius considered the consequences the end of the war would have on his life. Chief among them was processing the depth of the loss of James and Lily. He felt unmoored. He had never lacked confidence, assured of his place in the world. As a child, he had been the Black heir; he was superior to all his peers with the power of his family behind him. Later, he had become James Potter’s best friend, all but blood brothers. He had left his place in the family for one by James’ side. He had taken refuge with James and identified himself with the new family they had built around the Marauders and Lily. Now James would no longer be there, and the Black family was a disgraced mess.

The continued isolation and grief ate away at him, but a deep need for vengeance filled the emptiness left behind. Vengeance upon those that had orchestrated and aided Voldemort in his rise. Upon Peter who had broken his family. Upon all those who had abandoned him and his godson. Sirius knew he was capable of great cruelty when pushed, and James was not around to temper him. He had made a mistake when going after the rat so impulsively. By himself with nary a plan. It could have cost him everything. Only his family had granted him a second chance, and he would not make the same mistake the next time. 

The benefit of the aurors who mocked him was all the information they let slip when taunting him. In the two days the Ministry held him, Sirius learned much about the state of the wizarding world. His little godson was being called the boy-who-lived. Dumbledore, in his wisdom, had hidden him away. He knew Dumbledore had spoken on Snape’s sniveling behalf but could not be bothered with him. He knew which of the Death Eaters had been convicted or released. His tormentors believed these facts to be evidence of his guilt and hoped to anger him with the fall of his ‘comrades’. To Sirius, it was valuable information. The news of Dumbledore did bother him, but not for the reasons the others believed. 

Sirius smarted at the breach of faith. Snivellus Snape, a known Death Eater, was apparently worthier of Dumbledore’s protection than Sirius who had been one of his obedient soldiers. No doubt the headmaster had his reasons. Sirius was in no mood to hear them. He probably would not be for quite some time. 

Harry’s situation would be the deciding factor in his willingness to hear out Albus. His godson’s safety was of the utmost importance. When he had run in to Hagrid, he had been too in shock to question him. Too grateful someone would be guarding his safety while Sirius hunted down Peter. With distance, Sirius became wary. Had Dumbledore assumed his guilt straight away? He had yet to be accused of murder at the time, and the alacrity with which Harry was fetched and the lack of any notification to Sirius himself was suspicious. He was, after all, the boy’s named guardian within James’ will. Alice Longbottom was the second guardian listed, and Sirius knew she had not received the boy either. Bellatrix’ actions were a favorite among the accusations lobbed at his family by the guards. The Longbottoms became another name on his list of friends to mourn and avenge. The fact the stories mentioned baby Neville but not Harry concerned him. If Dumbledore had not passed the boy to either of his godparents, whom had he trusted with the task? 

He did feel justified in his resentment against Dumbledore and the Order. With his influence, Dumbledore could have convinced the DMLE to give him an audience with Sirius before the trial. Moody, one of the lead aurors, had not made a single attempt to speak to him while he was being held in the heart of the auror offices. 

The opening of his cell door drew Sirius from his musings. He stood and presented his hands to be shackled, impatient to get going. The guards’ presence in his cell meant one thing: the day’s events were underway. He found himself eager to see his family’s old solicitor. Sirius would be able to stop feeling so helpless and take steps to secure his future. 

The aurors marched him through the halls and deposited him in the same interrogation room from the other day. The only difference was the single occupant in the room. Seated at the table was Calum Higgs. He sat straight-backed, a bland expression on his face as Sirius joined him at the table. Higgs dismissed the aurors before focusing his gaze on the scrolls laid out. 

Sirius watched in silence as Higgs organized the pile of parchment and writing utensils. He had last interacted with the man when fighting for his right to keep the inheritance Alphard left him. He had paid a hefty price for the services but ultimately walked away with his money despite his father’s attempts at interference. Higgs had been the family solicitor since he was a child. Despite his unassuming demeanor, Sirius knew better than to underestimate him. The Blacks had not retained the firm’s services for no reason. He had always assumed his grandfather tacitly approved of his decision to go his own way since he had not prevented Higgs from aiding him as he could have. 

Higgs inked a quill and directed his attention to Sirius. “The ministry approved our request for Veritaserum. I have before me a list of the questions the DMLE would like to ask you. We will go over the wording and submit the final copy to the Wizengamot clerk for the trial.”

Sirius nodded in acknowledgement at the expectant break in Higg’s speech. He had no reason to be antagonistic towards the man helping secure his freedom. He would save all his contrariness for his grandfather. 

“You will have few allies among the court, so it is imperative to have a solid defense. Your Veritaserum statements will go a long way, but any other evidence will be beneficial. I do have a few individuals who have offered to speak on your behalf…”

Another nod from Sirius and he listed names off. “Your cousin Andromeda Tonks wishes to stand as a character witness, as does Charlus Potter, your late great-Aunt’s husband. Your aunt Lucretia Prewett can speak to your involvement with her nephews during the height of the war.”

Sirius considered the names Higgs mentioned. Andy was no surprise, and her inclusion filled him with a rush of fondness. The two of them had bonded over leaving the family, and he was glad she continued to support him. Charlus was a pleasant surprise, though he appreciated James’ great-uncle defending his relationship to the Potter family. His aunt Lucretia was another story. Sirius had gotten along fabulously with Fabian and Gideon Prewett; he mourned their passing with his aunt at the twins’ funeral a few months ago. It had been one of the few moments he had spoken to his father’s sister in years. He could not deny that having someone from a light family like the Prewetts would go a long way among the lord and ladies of the chamber, even if she was related to him. Her willingness was likely on his grandfather’s behest. 

“All of them are welcome to speak.”

Higgs made notes on the parchment then continued. 

“The first few questions will be straight-forward, asking your name and age for the record. Likewise, the next questions will be yes or no about your alleged actions: the murder of Peter Pettigrew, the blasting spell and murder of 13 muggles, the betrayal of the Potters, and your status as a Death Eater. I anticipate no problems with the wording of those. What we do need to discuss are the follow-up questions. If you describe the events of the 4th of November to me as well as any concerns you have, I can amend the current questions to best frame your testimony.”

Sirius paled, pulse thundering in his ears as he collected his thoughts. He was grateful for the opportunity to talk about the events before he had to do so publicly. Before he was forced to speak about what he saw through the detached tones of the Veritaserum. Before he had to share the pain with a crowd of vultures. One deep inhale, and he release the words building up on the exhale. 

“I knew Pettigrew to be the Potter’s secret keeper. That day, I felt uneasy. I went to visit Pettigrew, hoping to quiet my suspicions, but found his place abandoned. My first thought was the Potters. I didn’t think to inform anyone. I just flew straight to Godric’s Hollow.” Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the images of that night. “The house was wrecked. James – he.” The words died in his mouth. Below the table, white hands clenched and unclenched. “They were dead.”

“Did anyone see you there that night?”

“Rubeus Hagrid. He took Harry from the house. With him safe, I pursued Pettigrew.”

“Was anyone else aware of his being the secret-keeper other than yourself and the Potters?”

“No, but I know James made a note of it in his last will before going into hiding.”

Higgs’ head shot up, hand hovering over the parchment. “Albus Dumbledore sealed the Potter’s will soon after their death.” His eyes narrowed before he gave a decisive nod. “I’ll ensure the questioning reveals this information. The Wizengamot will find it interesting. Please continue.”

Sirius ground his teeth together, eyes flickering to the blank wall. The sealed will explained why Alice had not received little Harry. Had Dumbledore read the will before sealing it? Too many questions bounced around his head. A trembling hand covered his eyes as he bowed his head. 

“When I found him, Pettigrew hurled accusations of the betrayal at me. I froze. He was too fast. It happened in a blur. He cast a blasting curse, gave me a little wave, then transformed into a rat.”

“An unregistered animagus?”

“Yes. We became animaguses together you see.”

“Ah. Let’s see if we can avoid that fine.” Higgs made several notes on the parchment. “Anything else of concern?”

“Not regarding the trial. I do want to know about my godson, Harry. I am recognized by magic as his godfather. Will the trial or the sealed will affect my ability to petition his custody?”

“If all goes well, no legal avenue will exist to deny you your rights. Other individuals may attempt to challenge you, but it will do little to slow the process. Lord Black plans to submit reparation charges which will make the Ministry more amiable to your claims.”

Sirius exhaled, limbs losing the tension they held. Only a little longer and he’d be reunited with his godson. 

“One last item: I have a request from Headmaster Dumbledore for a meeting at the trial’s conclusion.” 

Sirius scowled. So the headmaster could spare the time to speak to the family solicitor. No message of encouragement. No sign of a willingness to defend him. 

Resentment sparked anew. “Deny him.”

“As you wish.” Higgs glanced at a pocket watch. A wave of his wand tidily stored the scrolls in a briefcase. 

A black, rectangular box floated onto the middle of the table. The silver crest embossed on the lid indicated its purpose in the room. Sirius dragged it closer to him, removing the lid to unveil the contents. Robes of the darkest blue lay inside. Sirius lifted them out, grey eyes lingering on the silver embroidery that decorated the collar and sleeve hems. Nothing but the best for the Blacks. Sirius loathed to admit the robes – traditional as expected – aligned with his tastes. 

“Let us get you dressed so I can finish the trial arrangements.” 

Sirius submitted to Higg’s ministrations with a small grimace. His grandfather was correct: he couldn’t appear in court in prison rags.

* * *

The trial chamber echoed with a cacophony of noise as Arcturus entered the room. A flurry of activity went on at the floor of the chamber. Clerks moved around with rolls of parchment stacked in their hands. Ministry officials gathered at the dais. In a small box to the right sat the handful of witnesses which Arcturus was both pleased and disappointed to see contained only his family members. On one hand, it showed Sirius how much he needed his family. On the other, Arcturus could not condone the lack of loyalty his grandson’s so-called friends exhibited. 

Numerous people followed his progress in the chambers. He ignored the stares and settled into his chair at the front of the member’s gallery. On either side, Lords Shacklebolt and Longbottom greeted him cordially. The Wizengamot reserved prime seats in the gallery for the trio, heads of the oldest and wealthiest of the families serving on the court. Arcturus observed the conversations occurring between the rest of the hereditary and elected members of the Wizengamot. He noted Abraxas Malfoy’s pursed lips as the other lord whispered fervently with old Gaius Lestrange. Arcturus had predicted the response. Their families had only received trials with the Council of Magical Law while Arcturus had demanded a full Wizengamot trial for the injustice shown his grandson. Power-hungry sycophants, they no doubt anticipated filling the vacuum of an absent Black family. Malfoy, son free from persecution and a grandson with Black blood, must be furious with the trial proceedings. 

Flashes of light came from the back of the room where the press’ viewing box was located. Arcturus abandoned his observations, focus shifting to the center of the room. One of the side doors opened, and a parade of aurors filtered in. Sirius strode in at the rear, robes emphasizing his smooth steps. Arcturus allowed himself a moment of pride, witnessing his grandson’s noble carriage. No weakness shown. No sign Sirius had spent almost two months in the care of the Dementors. He might deny his family, but there was no denying he was Black. It was obvious in the features so similar to his own, and the aristocratic demeanor no amount of slouching could counteract. 

The noise in the chamber quieted down as the Chief Warlock, Albertus Burke, brought down his gavel. The elder lord had expressed wishes to retire and whispers about Dumbledore replacing him abounded. Arcturus gave quite thanks to Lady Magic he had yet to be replaced. Dumbledore leading the trial would have made everything more difficult. 

“The trial of Sirius Orion Black, scheduled for 3 o’clock on the 21st of December 1981, shall now begin, the accused being present. Presenting the defense is Councilor Calum Higgs. Presenting the prosecution is Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch, Sr.”

A low murmur spread at the announcement of the last name. Arcturus smirked, pleased at the reaction. Crouch had sent his grandson straight to Azkaban yet given his own son a farce of a trial. That he still clung on to his position of power was intolerable. Arcturus anticipated thoroughly destroying Crouch’s reputation for the affront to his family. 

“Each member of the Wizengamot should have reviewed the evidence presented by the prosecution. We will now proceed with the testimony from the accused. The defense has requested the use of Veritaserum.” Another burst of low chatter in the chamber. “Auror Blishen, please administer the potion.”

The evidence the members had been given was minimal: incoherent statements from muggles later obliviated and reports from the ministry officials who arrested Sirius and cleaned the scene. The Ministry’s case depended on conjecture and assumptions by second-hand witnesses to the events. Sirius Veritaserum testimony would ring with truth in contrast. He challenged anyone to call Sirius guilty upon the termination of the trial. 

He did not need to listen to the questioning on the floor of the chamber. Arcturus never doubted his grandson’s innocence. Higgs reviewed the questions he drafted with Arcturus for final approval, so he had foreknowledge on how the trial would proceed. The reactions of the crowd held more importance. Arcturus rejoined the Wizengamot two years ago upon his son’s death. He had prioritized reconnecting with the hereditary members, and only had passing familiarity with the elected member cycled in since. If the Black family was to grow in influence, they needed allies everywhere. 

Today’s response would be a gauge to see where power would fall in the post-Voldemort days. Dumbledore leaned forward in his seat among the elected members, brow furrowed as the trial proceeded. Arcturus did not miss the flash of annoyance at the mention of the Potter’s sealed will. The whispers rose in volume forcing Burke to bang the gavel for order. Even so sharp voices and gasps resounded as the trial continued. 

Lord Longbottom and Shacklebolt sent him heavy glances throughout the proceedings. Harfang Longbottom had been torn about the trial when Arcturus spoke to him. Bellatrix had been instrumental in his grandson’s torture while his wife was born a member of House Black, a beloved cousin of Arcturus’. He had not given any sign of support before the trial. Harfang leaned over now, no hesitation in his movements as he spoke to Arcturus. 

“Callidora will be overjoyed to hear the news. She has been inconsolable since Frank and Alice’s hospitalization. She will demand Sirius come around for tea.”

Arcturus smiled at the tacit statement of support. A formal alliance between the two houses would benefit Arcturus. A commotion at the front prevented a verbal response. Disorder reigned, yells echoing in the room. At the front, the Chief Warlock berated a red-faced Crouch for impropriety. Arcturus tilted his head, eyes narrowed on the cluster of officials at the dais, Higgs among them. He had missed something. At last, Crouch stomped out of the room, two of the clerks scurrying after him. 

“The court will consider the charge for an unregistered animagus during the sentencing portion of the trial. We will proceed with the character witnesses.”

Ah. Crouch had veered off the list of acceptable questions. Higgs had been meticulous in his crafting of the questions. Sirius’ status as an animagus would not have come up otherwise. While frowned upon, Burke could have sanctioned Crouch’s line of questioning if he wished. Under the influence, only silencing Sirius would have prevented unwanted information from being revealed. Arcturus leaned back in his seat, attention drifting as his niece went to testify. 

The statements describing Sirius’ war efforts and loyalty to his friends garnered several approving noises from the Wizengamot members. Sirius made a fine picture. He avoided eye-contact, grief etched on his features. His hands twitched in the chains, muscles flexing with aborted movements. The sympathy of the court shifted in Sirius’ favor. The only sour faces belonged to families who had supported the Dark Lord. They could not vote against Sirius without raising questions. Dumbledore’s grave face jumped out at him. The old man periodically conferred with his pet auror. If only he could be privy to Dumbledore’s thoughts. 

“All those in favor of a not guilty verdict on the count of 1 wizard death, 13 muggle deaths, membership to an illegal terrorist organization, and a violation of the Statue of Secrecy raise your wands.”

Arcturus’ pulse quickened. Nearly all the wands in the room rose. As the opposite was called, not a single wand went into the air. 

“All those abstaining.”

In a smooth motion, Arcturus lifted his wand. His was not the only one in the air. Albus. No doubt he would claim a conflict of interest. Lord Malfoy and Lord Lestrange took advantage of the familial connection to recuse themselves as well. The pinched expressions spoke volumes of the real issue. Lord Malfoy, like Druella, had probably been plotting to have his grandson declared the Black heir in the absence of another viable Black son in the main branch of the family. 

“The Wizengamot declares Sirius Orion Black not guilty of his accused crimes. A penalty for being an unregistered animagus will be applied. Councilor Higgs may speak to the law wizard in charge of fines to settle the matter. This meeting of the Wizengamot is now adjourned.”

Chaos erupted in the room. People all around him clamored for his attention. Arcturus pasted on a close-lipped smile, accepting the congratulations of his peers with curt nods and hard handshakes. He excused himself from the crowd, waving a dismissive hand and citing concern for his grandson. The members parted form him, and he left the chamber with an even pace. In the corridor, Lord Malfoy waited for him, hands clasped behind his back. Arcturus slowed, stopped, and raised a single eyebrow in question. 

“So the prodigal son will return. I wonder how long he’ll last before he scampers off again. A suitable heir for a dying house like yours,” the man sneered. 

“A strong heir.” Arcturus corrected. “One who bows to no man. You will do well to remember your place Malfoy, prostrated at your master’s feet.”

Malfoy’s face flooded with color, jaw clenched. Arcturus swept past him down the corridor. He had a grandson to corral. The rest of the wizarding world could wait.

* * *

Free. Cleared of all charges. He wanted to jump and dance in celebration. The euphoria bubbled up, a massive grin splitting his face. His muscles ached with the force of it. 

The second the shackles released him, Sirius sprung up. He pumped Higgs hand, words of thanks spilling out. The solicitor guided Sirius from the chamber and neatly avoided speaking to anyone. Higgs ushered him into a small conference room. Sirius gaped at the items on the table. Shacking hands grasped the length of wood. He breathed a soft sigh at the warmth tingling his fingers. The charmed mokeskin bag went into his pockets. 

“Oh, Sirius!”

Sirius flinched at the shout, spinning towards the source of the noise. Andy threw herself at him and engulfed him in a hug. Sirius nearly wept. It felt a lifetime ago when he last had meaningful physical contact with another human. His hands wrapped around her in turn. He buried his face in her hair, a faint flower scent filling his nose. She sniffled, dampness spreading along the fabric on his shoulder. 

How amazing, the power of human touch. He felt grounded again after so long drifting alone. A hand gripped his shoulder, and Sirius lifted his head to shoot Charlus a grateful look. The older man squeezed his shoulder in response, a kind smile on his face. 

“Thank you.” Sirius’ voice broke on the two words. 

His cousin’s embrace tightened before she stepped back completely. Sirius’s body swayed after her. He placed an arm around her shoulders, leaning into her side to chase the warmth. 

He had been too distracted to notice Arcturus’ arrival. ”Sirius!” 

From the expectant look on his grandfather’s face, the exclamation was not the first call for his attention. Higgs was nowhere to be seen. 

“Yes?” Sirius straightened on reflex, chin raising a fraction as he responded.

“Now that Higgs has gone to take care of matters, we had best relocate to the manor. Your grandmother will be waiting for you to begin Yule celebrations.”

Yule. Huh, time had flown by during his incarceration. He had a handful of days if he wanted to be reunited with Harry for Christmas. 

“No thanks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for House Black’s assistance. I’d just rather not spend my first night free with dear old mum.”

A snort in the corner from his aunt Lucretia; Andy pinched his side, and Charlus shifted uneasily. 

“Must everything be a fight Sirius.” His grandfather sighed, idly rubbing his temples. “You must be tired. I cannot imagine you have any provisions at whatever muggle hovel you live in. You can play nice with your mother for one evening.”

Sirius didn’t blink. His spare hand flexed at his side. He couldn’t refute his grandfather’s reasoning. Trapped by circumstance once again. His muggle landlord was unlikely to have held his flat after two months with no rent. He might have trashed or sold his belongings. He certainly didn’t want to deal with going somewhere as public as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade so soon after his trial. Everyone would be in a furor over the day’s news. 

Still. This is how it started. First, it was Yule. Then it would be something else. Closer and closer they would draw him until he was caught in their web. 

He was on the brink of a second denial when Andy interjected. “Arcturus invited Nymphadora and I as well, Sirius. It’s been years since I’ve been able to see Narcissa.”

Yule with the whole Black clan if Andromeda and her sister were among the invited. Naked want gleamed in her eyes when Sirius glanced down at her. His cousin had been hurt by the distance from her sisters. Narcissa never dared to defy family orders and reach out to Andromeda after her disownment. Sirius had been the only Black present at Dora’s naming ceremony.

“I suppose one night can’t hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://midnightfalling.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I have a lot planned for this fic, so keep an eye on the tags as they'll update when new chapters are posted. I might move into some kind of weekly schedule, but for now, I'm updating as I go. If anyone would like to beta, please let me know!
> 
> UPDATE 11/6/18 : Chapters 1 and 2 have been edited. Mostly grammar and style changes, but the bits of dialogue have been changed.


	3. The Truth in Fraternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are family reunions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy!

**December 21st, 1981**

Hearths whirled by in a flash of green before the fire spit Sirius out. He stumbled forward, arms extended to either side. Each step left a trail of ashy footprints on the marble floor. The spinning floo travel disoriented him more than he remembered ever being, and he struggled to regain his composure. 

“What an utter lack of grace. Twenty-two years old and you manage floo travel as well as a child. Disgraceful.”

The crisp voice echoed in the receiving room. Sirius swore under his breath, gaze snapping towards the entrance of the small anteroom. Framed in the doorway with her usual expression of displeasure was Walburga Black. 

He rolled his eyes, indignation welling within him. 

“Merlin, woman. I haven’t even been out of prison for one bloody hour. One would think that’d earn me a pass.”

“Don’t be crass, Sirius Orion. Your ordeal is no excuse to behave in an unbecoming manner.” 

Walburga mindlessly vanished all the soot on his clothing and the polished floor. Sirius trained a wary eye on her as she approached. He held his breath as she kissed his checks, resisting the urge to flinch back. He drew the line when she fussed at his robes. 

Pushing her off, Sirius stepped back and crossed his arms. “Give it a rest will you!”

“Really now,” Walburga sniffed. “That’s no way to speak to your mother.”

Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable. The whole world had gone bonkers. 

Sure, James’ death had been seismic. For him, for little Harry, for the war. House Black apparently wanted to ignore James’ impact on his life. It was like a time-turner had burst and sent him back to his childhood. Only now there was no Reggie to compare him to. No Orion to deal out his punishment. Five years and a disownment couldn’t halt Walburga’s lecture on his ‘appalling’ behavior. Still the traitorous son who could do no good. 

It stung. The only son she had alive had spent weeks with the dementors, and she couldn’t spare a kind word, much less any polite welcome. He didn’t know why he’d expected different. He _hadn’t_ expected different. It was the very reason he had wanted to avoid coming here. 

Sirius reverted to his teenage tactics and did his best to drown her out. His foot tapped, grey eyes flickering to the fireplace every few seconds. Walburga was too prideful to tolerate being ignored. Her voice grew shriller until at last a flash of green interrupted her. Sirius straightened, arms falling to his side. 

His grandfather sauntered out of the fireplace, a careless gesture removing any ash from his body. He raised an eyebrow as he regarded the two of them. Sirius' chin rose a fraction, eyes steadily meeting his grandfather’s. 

A corner of Arcturus’ mouth lifted before his expression evened out. Sirius’ brow wrinkled as he addressed his mother first. “Walburga, I was under the impression you meant to welcome your son home. I did not know hosting duties required keeping your guests in the vestibule.”

Sirius pressed his lips together, ducking his head to hide a small smile. 

“Well.” Walburga’s face flushed, and she clasped her hands together. “Yes, I mean – Tilly!” 

A pop and a small house elf curtsied at their feet. “Madam called?”

Arcturus interjected before Walburga could speak. “Tilly, please show the young master his room. Sirius, you’ll find everything you need to freshen up in the suite. Your grandmother will want to see you before dinner.” 

Part of Sirius wished to rebel, irritated at being managed like a child. He swallowed down the impulse. He had to keep thinking of Harry. His grandfather could still make life difficult for him. Until his godson was safe in his arms, Sirius would need to keep playing happy family with his grandfather. 

He gave a curt nod and stalked out of the room behind the elf.

* * *

The day had gone better than Arcturus hoped. The trial earned sympathy for Sirius from the public and outrage on his behalf from the pureblood circles. Several lords had delayed his departure from the Ministry. They had caught him in the atrium to discuss the injustice committed against a son of a noble house by the current administration. Only days before, these same lords would not meet his eyes. Black madness, they claimed. Deranged Bellatrix and Unhinged Sirius. The killer Black cousins. A fitting end to a dying house as Malfoy had mentioned. 

How quickly they changed their tune. 

They were eager to curry his favor now. As the Boy-Who-Lived’s godfather and heir to the Black family, Sirius’ freedom elevated his grandson into a position of power. Dumbledore was the only one whose level of influence would compare. Arcturus would be more worried about the headmaster if he did not know his grandson so well. Dumbledore would alienate Sirius all on his own, pushing him further into Arcturus’ guidance. Sirius may have been one of his soldiers in the war, but he had always valued his loved ones over everything else. This Sirius cared about one thing: Harry Potter. Before too long, he would realize he needed the Black family to keep his godson safe. 

He had to admit the Sirius surprised him. He had worried about his impulsiveness, but the boy showed remarkable restraint. He was testy, yes. But not openly hostile. A young Sirius would have stormed out of the manor when Walburga started in on him. Perhaps the fiasco with Pettigrew had finally cured Sirius of his rasher tendencies. 

Entering the living room, Arcturus went straight to the fireplace. In cupped hands, he spun his magic into a glowing figurine: two boys running side by side. He poured his hopes and concerns into the creation. Tossing the formation of magic into the fire, he prayed to Lady Magic for a blessing. 

A quiet voice broke through his reverie. 

“How is he?”

Arcturus sighed, studying the bright fire a moment longer. “Remarkably well for the experience. He will find us when he has had a moment. You can see for yourself then.” 

He turned, offering his wife a gentle smile. “I know you will worry until you do.”

She gave a small laugh, patting the couch cushion next to her. “Come, sit.”

Nothing could have prevented his complying with her request. 

Melania sat by the arm of the couch, a cup of tea on the side table. A wool blanket lay across her lap, her right hand holding a book open. The light from the fire gave a warm glow to her golden hair. A more inviting sight did not exist. Melania, brilliant woman that she was, had long been his greatest source of comfort and advice. Her brush with illness a few years ago had been trying on him. The spattergoit left her with a weakened constitution, easily fatigued. Her health played a significant role in his delegating the family duties to his son. She too had been the catalyst for his renewed interest. 

His body relaxed into the soft cushions. Arcturus caught Melania’s free hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to deposit a kiss. She hummed and squeezed his hand in return before returning to her book. Lulled by the peaceful atmosphere of the room, he closed his eyes and sunk back into the couch. He was glad all the maneuvering for Sirius’ release was over. Politics was a young man’s game. Arcturus had never had much patience for it. His father had held the family seat until his death, and he had passed it on to his own son not long after. He had always been more content in his potions lab – much to his father’s chagrin. There was a way to go yet, but Arcturus would not be flying it alone. 

Arcturus tilted his head, eyes opening at the shuffling noise from the room’s third occupant. Across the room, a slim figure shifted restlessly where it was stretched out on a chaise lounge. A dark head of hair peeked out from under a blanket, the only visible body part. 

“How long has he been sleeping?”

“Oh, not very. The poor dear worked himself up listening to the wireless.” Melania leaned into him and smiled conspiratorially. “I had Mipsy slip a calming draught in his tea.”

Arcturus chuckled. “With any luck, the effects will last all evening.”

“He _is_ the quiet one. Sirius, him I worry about.”

“He inherited the dramatics from Walburga I fear.”

“After the past few years, I say he has earned the right to an outburst or two.”

“You always did indulge him.” 

He got a swat with the book for his observation. “Nonsense.” A beat. “It will be lovely to have the manor full again.”

From the hallway, a faint yell could be heard. Footsteps thundered closer. Arcturus arched an eyebrow at his wife, “Really?”

Melania huffed and placed her book on the table. “He checked the tapestry then.”

The ruckus woke the room’s other occupant. Arcturus eyed him as he shot up blanket rumpled in his lap. At the same time, the door to the room slammed open.

* * *

Tilly disappeared with a crack and silence descended in the room. Grey eyes swept the suite. A distant voice recognized it as the room from his childhood, absently noting the changes. No trunk of toys sat between the armchairs. No dragon figurines littered the shelves. But it was the same overstuffed armchairs in a bright red. The glass chess set he’d received one year gleamed on the table before them. A picture of the marauders – young and ignorant – hung pride of place on the door to the bedroom. 

This was the first moment of true privacy Sirius had since that night. No aurors, no dementors, no lawyers or ministry officials – no family. 

He inhaled. 

On the exhale, a pulse of magic ripped through the room and everything went flying. Sirius collapsed on the floor bare feet from the entrance, a ragged cry joining the noise of crashing objects. 

Sirius released everything. All the emotions – frustration, fury, fear, loss (so much loss). Everything that had been building and building inside of him exploded out. His body shook on the floor, wrenched with the force of his sobs. 

Eventually, silence filled the room. Vacant eyes stared at the ceiling, weak limbs akimbo. He basked in the blank nothingness as he lay motionless on the floor. Reality began to seep in before long. There was still so much. Harry. He had to think of Harry. He needed to locate his godson, settle the Potter affairs, deal with Dumbledore and the Order. He sighed. So much to do. 

But first a bath and fresh clothes. He wanted to feel human again before facing the rest of the Blacks. A prospect more daunting than the Wizengamot. Sirius lurched to his feet. His head spun but he ignored it as he lumbered towards the bathroom. His eyes avoided the mirror, steps leading him straight to the massive bathtub in the corner. He fiddled with the taps until fragrant water gushed into the basin. He shed his robes, dropping them to the floor. He didn’t even wait for the tub to fill before getting in. 

Sirius sunk below the surface of the water and let himself float. Warm bath water soothed his muscles and chased away Azkaban’s chill. He came up when he could no longer hear the roaring of the taps. He luxuriated in the moment, in the pleasant aroma from the bathwater, in the peace. His face was wet, and for the life of him, he didn’t know if it was water or his tears. 

The bath water turned cool and brown long before he was ready to get out. He emptied the tub and refilled it, taking care to wash away the layers of grime. A folded bathrobe awaited him on the marble counters. He wrapped himself up in it, using the second door to go straight to the bedroom and bypass the mess in the sitting room. Even less had been touched in the bedroom. Granted, he hadn’t gone all out in decorating this room. Not like he had at Grimmauld Place. But all his personal touches remained: the violently red color scheme, the stacks of muggle magazines, and the guitar he’d sworn his grandmother he’d learn to play. He wondered if the heavy oak wardrobe would be full of clothing too small to fit him anymore. 

The garments laid out on the bed for him prevented his going to check: velvet robes in a deep maroon, dragonhide boots, and a small box with a pin of the Black crest nestled inside. Muggle clothing may be more constricting, but Sirius would wear a muggle suit before such old-fashioned robes. He was short on options, so he had no choice unless he wanted to go downstairs starkers. He dressed quickly, sparing a brief thought for the nearly perfect fit. His grandmother’s doing no doubt. She was scarily efficient when it came to such matters. Sirius did not linger in the suite. He fetched his pouch from his discarded robes and exited without hesitation. 

With the door shut and no clear destination, Sirius wandered the hallways of the manor. Few portraits decorated the walls in the private wing of the manor. Paintings of myths and creatures adorned the walls instead. He paused before one of Bellerophon astride the great Pegasus. As a child, he had longed for adventure, for quests of honor and glory like the one’s Bellerophon embarked on. He too had paid a price for his arrogance. 

An open door further down the hallway lured him in next. Towering shelves covered the high walls, each lined with book after book. A few tables and seats filled the middle of the room. The far wall interested him more than anything. Between two narrow, floor to ceiling windows spanned a massive tapestry. A skylight above shone the dying light of the day directly on the fabric. The images and names were too small to make out from the doorway. Only the tree motif obvious from the distance. The tapestry at the townhouse was insignificant compared to this one. 

Centuries of Black family history recorded along the wall with none of his mother’s lovely additions. This tapestry was tied to the family magic as closely as it was to the lord of the family, automatically updating at any change. He drew closer, searching for the branch of the tree near the base he was most familiar with. A few more names had joined the numerous others in faded grey rather than the glowing white of the living. He found his own name under his father’s faded one, fingers reaching out. The sight of the name next to his halted any movement. 

Like the Marauder’s map, the tapestry did not lie. It did not _lie_. Yet Sirius refused to believe. He had heard stories, been taunted by death eaters. He had been so _sure_. He’d gotten proper drunk with James one night and refused to talk about it ever again. Yet. Yet. 

Arcturus must know. With the tapestry, there was no way he hadn’t. So where was he?  
“Tilly!” Sirius didn’t even wait for her greeting, shouting over her. “Where is my grandfather?”

“Master and Missus be in the blue room, young mister.”

He hardly waited for her to finish to storm out of the room, yelling as he went. “Arcturus! You bastard!”

The door two rooms down blasted open as he approached. The next shout died in his throat. 

Sitting upon a chaise looking as disoriented as he felt was a young man, dark hair in disarray and eyes wide as they stared at each other. 

“Reggie?” Sirius slumped against the doorway, voice breaking on the name he had not spoken for years. 

His brother winced, hands fiddling with the blanket strewn across his body. “Sirius.”

Sirius couldn’t stop drinking him in. Like a Patronus that would disappear as soon as he stopped focusing. 

“How – How is this possible?”

Regulus’ eyes flickered to the other side of the room. Sirius followed his gaze, eyes narrowing at the sight of his grandparents. He strode into the room at the reminder of his previous anger. 

“You!”

Arcturus’ face was inscrutable, but his grandmother’s held a slight frown. She made to stand, held back by a hand on her arm. 

“Let the boy speak, Mel.”

Sirius froze in the middle of the room, hands twitching at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Use your brain. Why else would I have hidden him in the manor for two years? For his protection.”

He’d been told Regulus had died a coward’s death. That he’d tried to run from his duties to his Lord. That didn’t explain why the wizarding world still believed he was dead. The aurors at the ministry all spoke of his dead, death eater brother. They’d have told him if he had come forward as alive. Another slimy pureblood like Malfoy who escaped imprisonment. 

“From what? Voldemort’s dead.” 

“No, he is not.” 

Sirius whirled around at the quiet voice. His brother’s head was lowered as he wrung his hands together. 

“He’s dead.” Sirius said firmly, “I saw Godric’s Hollow myself.”

Regulus raised his head, meeting Sirius’ glare. “No, he _isn’t_. He created horcruxes.”

“What?” 

“Hocruxes. He dabbled in soul magic. I know you know what they are.”

Sirius shook his head, taking a few steps back. He pointed an accusing finger at his brother. “How do you even know? If he really did make any, I doubt he went about telling all his followers!” 

“I–” 

“Sit down, Sirius.” The nearness of his grandmother’s voice startled him. “If I have to hear this dreadful story again, we’ll need tea.” 

A fresh pot of tea appeared on the centre table. Sirius readied to protest, but his grandmother forcibly directed him to one of the high-back chairs in the room. Cups of tea floated about the room. His nudged insistently at his fingers. He grabbed it, knowing from experience it would spill the contents on his lap otherwise. The heat from the cup gave him something solid to cling to. His grandmother’s implicit corroboration of Regulus’ claims hit Sirius hard. A Voldemort with horcruxes. All his losses would be in vain. James’ death in vain. 

All those missions to end raids and protect innocents. To track down his followers. To find information on the next attack. Never in all that time had Dumbledore mentioned horcruxes or rituals or any ancient magic Voldemort might be aiming to complete. James had told Sirius of a prophecy. One which foretold Voldemort’s death. One which had sent him and Lily into hiding. How could he believe such a prophecy with the knowledge of the immortality Voldemort had given himself? Dumbledore had sent his family into hiding for nothing. And Harry, sweet little Harry, would be thrust into the middle of any future conflict. 

“How do you know?” His hands were white-knuckled, clamped around the small cup.

For a minute, no response was forthcoming. Sirius almost started shouting again but the sight of Regulus curling into himself stopped him. Dreadful story, his grandmother said. What had the little fool done?

“I found one.” His brother ran a hand through his hair. The words were practically inaudible. “He – the Dark Lord – he asked for assistance, a house elf. I offered Kreacher. Bella— she urged me.”

Regulus turned wide and pleading eyes on Sirius. He nodded, silently encouraging him to continue his story. He needed to know, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. Regulus wasn’t making sense, and Sirius knew he would be as elusive as a unicorn if he began interrogating him – if his grandmother didn’t eviscerate him first. 

“Kreacher described a cave and a locket. A lake of inferi. He was all wrong when he came home. I got curious. The Dark Lord – he had made remarks. Of his invincibility. Of the lengths he went to. I started putting the pieces together. So I—”

He flushed, abruptly cutting off the flow of words. A pit began to form in Sirius’ stomach. 

“He decided to destroy the horcrux on his own, without informing anyone. He thought he would go to his death with the family none the wiser.” His grandfather picked up the narrative, but Sirius kept his eyes on his younger brother. Watched the way he hunched further into himself with each word. “Mipsy had been ordered to report any suspicious activity by the family elves. She brought Kreacher to me in time. The stupid boy was being dragged into the lake by the time I retrieved him.” 

“You _idiot_ , Reggie. Why didn’t you come to me!” 

“I— I did not think you would believe me.” 

The quiet words stunned Sirius back into silence. 

How arrogant he’d been. Vital information for the Order; a missed opportunity because he had cut his brother out of his life. Because he was right. Sirius would have been suspicious. Would have though Regulus was trying to trick him. Fooled by a friend who had been a traitor. Distrusted by a brother who had been loyal. So foolish; convinced he knew everything. He had been the idiot. While he did nothing, one brother lost his life and the other risked his to bring Voldemort’s death. 

No one spoke. The fire crackled in the background. His tea was lukewarm, but the action of drinking centered him. As he turned the words over and over in his mind, one thing stuck out at him. 

“You said horcruxes. Plural.”

“Something Bella said. About the Dark Lord honoring her with his trust. Malfoy too she said. Proud our family was valued by him.” 

“So, you don’t know for sure?”

“Well – yes. I do. Grandfather helped me research. We found information. On his youth. It seems likely. Then, there’s…” He paused, glancing quickly to and away from Sirius. “Godric’s Hollow. The lack of a body. If I destroyed the only one, there would have been a body.”

It wasn’t over. Years of fighting and he wasn’t waking up from the nightmare. He had to find them. The rest of the horcruxes. All which existed. For Harry’s sake if nothing else. Harry would never truly be safe if Voldemort could return any day. Sirius may think the prophecy a load of rubbish, but Voldemort clearly believed it. 

“Have you found any others? In the last two years, have you discovered anything?” 

He couldn’t help the bite to his tone. Regulus responded equally sharply.

“Pardon me, it is a tad difficult to go traipsing about Britain as a dead man!”

“Boys!” Both settled back into their seats at the reprimand from their grandmother. “That is enough discussion. Today is Yule; let us enjoy the celebration.”

Sirius opened his mouth to interject. 

“No, Sirius. You can ask your questions another day. There is nothing to be done tonight.”

“Oh, does Reggie need to return to his hidey-hole?” He 

Arcturus pinched his nose; tea sloshed from the rim of his grandmother’s teacup as she set it down. 

“This is the first time both my grandsons are home in over seven years. You will forgive me if I want to have one evening free from talk of death and fighting.”

She stood, nostrils flaring, and smoothed down her dress. 

“If you will excuse, I must see to the dinner preparations.”

The door clicked shut behind her. 

“Well done, Sirius. Not even a half-hour; must be a new record for you.”

“Oh, shut up, Reggie.”

Sirius tipped his head back, closing his eyes to the rest of the world. 

“What do you plan to do, grandfather? Regulus can’t hide in the manor forever.”

“No, he cannot. However, the worst of the trials are over. With the scandal of your release, the public will be more inclined to believe his innocence. After all, he was only eighteen when he disappeared, and no actual crimes are attributed to him.”

“I have leads. People to ask. I need to be reintroduced to society to find the others.”

Direction, at least they had a direction. With every passing hour, putting his life together seemed to become a more insurmountable task. He had yet another item to add to his to-do list. One more thing to keep track of. And he still didn’t know who he could trust.

He let out an explosive sigh. 

“Let me know what you learn. I need to talk to the goblins, but I hope to get my job back. I’ll have access to information that could help in the search.”

“Thank you.” 

His brother disentangled himself from the blankets and planted his feet on the floor. He hesitated, gaze downcast. Sirius cracked. 

He crossed the room in a swift motion, kneeling next to him. He reached out and grasped Regulus by the neck, fingers tangling in the silky strands as he pulled him close. Their foreheads rested together for a long moment before Sirius released his hold. One side of Regulus’ mouth quirked up, and Sirius mirrored the gesture. Another beat past before Regulus nodded, getting to his feet. 

“I will see you at dinner.” 

And then it was just Sirius and his grandfather. He remained on his knees, blank eyes staring at the door Regulus had vanished through. 

“Breathe, Sirius.”

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he gasped, sucking in air. He hadn’t realized he had stopped breathing. The whole evening was turning into a blur. He stayed on the floor, not sure his legs would support him if he attempted to stand. His grandfather pressed his teacup back into his hands, warmth infusing cold fingers. Arcturus guided clumsy hands towards his mouth, and he drank on reflex. As he swallowed the liquid, he could feel his muscles losing their tension. The haze cleared in his mind. 

“Tea with calming draught. Drink all of it.” 

The repetitive action eased something in him, and he drained the cup in no time. His grandfather scanned him, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. He manhandled him onto the chaise and draped Regulus’ abandoned blanket around his shoulders. 

“Rest; humor your grandmother tonight. Tomorrow we can handle business.” 

Sirius snorted. Business. What a polite way to phrase the clusterfuck that had become his life. He complied with the order anyway. A whole evening with the Blacks awaited him, and it was apparent his earlier optimism about the evening was misplaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally meant to include the Yule celebrations, but I decided to end it there. Next chapter we will get to see some Regulus pov. This will really be his and Sirius' story with input by the other Blacks and Harry. 
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr!](https://midnightfalling.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read/commented/subscribed!


	4. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Sirius are reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much to all who've been reading and following the story. All the comments and kudos and subscriptions are really encouraging. I apologize for the long wait. Hope you enjoy the chapter :)

**December 22nd, 1981**

The soft crinkling of newspaper pages accompanied the birdsong filtering in from the gardens outside. A pale, rose-tinted light provided light to read the morning’s news. A picture of Sirius in the Wizengamot chambers dominated the front page; the corresponding article ranted about the injustices faced by a young and brave war-hero. It amused him considering the same writers had spent the past month shouting about Black madness. The articles of more interest hid within the back pages of the Prophet, consigned to small blocks of space in the society pages. _”Lucius Malfoy, Heir of the Malfoy Family, spotted dining at The Silver Fairy with Adolphus Carter, member of the Wizarding Administration...”_ and other such tidbits littered the section. For those who paid more attention, the society pages proved useful in tracking people’s movements. 

His grandfather wanted to be aware of the Malfoy family’s activities, and Narcissa had given away precious little the night before. If events had unfolded differently, Regulus would have expected the Malfoy’s to lay low for a while and lay the ground work for Lucius to come out prominently in a few years. Most of the pureblood families would have little interest in challenging Lucius or no power to do so. Sirius’ release and Regulus’ upcoming reintroduction to society complicated matters for them. The Black family, with a repaired reputation and deeper coffers than the Malfoy’s, stood to gain the most ground in the Dark Lord’s aftermath. Abraxas and Lucius would be hard-pressed to stand idly by as the Black family filled the power void. Grandfather wanted to be aware of what measures they might resort to. 

The clatter of dishes distracted Regulus from his thoughts. Seated before him, Sirius tore into the breakfast dishes with all the grace of a troll. Regulus wrinkled his nose and pointedly raised the paper higher. Sirius doubled his efforts, the sound of loud chewing permeating the space. Regulus normally spent his mornings in solitude, his grandparents rising later and preferring the privacy of their own rooms. He hadn’t considered how Sirius’ presence would affect the everyday minutia of his life, so many years having passed since they had last cohabited. His way of living these past two years was about to radically change, last night’s celebration with their extended Black relatives only the beginning of the stream of visitors the mansion would host from now on, and so he hid behind the papers, clinging to the remaining comforts he had. 

Across the table, the noises quieted down, only the occasional clink of a fork against the china interrupting the silence. Regulus finished the paper, folding it neatly before setting it down on the edge of the table. Sirius reclined in his chair, arms crossed as he stared out the wall of windows. He recognized the gleam in his eyes, one that had never boded well for whoever it was directed at. His fellow Slytherins had been on the receiving end too often during Sirius’ school years. 

“What are you planning?”

Sirius smirked and picked up two letters sitting by his plate, carelessly tossing them across the table towards Regulus. 

“I’m getting my godson back.”

Regulus brow furrowed, and he opened the missives. The house elves must have delivered them while he ignored Sirius. The letter on top was thicker, two pieces of parchment folded together, each with the Ministry logo emblazoned at the top. The first page contained an approval for Sirius’ petition for guardianship to one Harry James Potter, currently residing in Little Whinging, Surrey. The note went on to list a series of conditions, suspect to inspection by a member of the Wizarding Administration Office and failure of which would open the door for other petitions. The list included providing a suitable living environment and clearance by a Ministry approved Mind healer with a second appointed guardian necessary until cleared. Eyes narrowed, he gave the second page a cursory glance, identifying a blank guardianship form with spaces for the required information. 

He handed the sheets back to his brother, picking up the other letter. 

“Malfoy’s doing no doubt. Who do you plan to name? Lupin?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers to call a house elf. 

“Bring me a writing set, will you?” 

A moment later a tray with quills, penknife, ink, and sundries appeared on the table. Sirius dismissed Tilly and dipped one of the quills in ink. 

“Don’t be absurd. The Ministry would never go for that and you know it. No, I’m naming grandfather. Those stuffy toffs can’t disapprove of him.”

“Have you asked him?”

Sirius scoffed, “Like this isn’t what he wanted to begin with?”

He could not deny the fact, but Regulus had anticipated more of a fight. 

“You will be staying then? Grandfather thought you would want your own place back.”

“I thought about it all night. My flat’s been rented by this point, and the Potter properties are a mess.” Sirius looked up from his writing with an impish smile, “Besides, there’s house elves here, and I’ve never changed a nappy. Cissy looked too put-together yesterday to have a one-year old at home.”

Regulus laughed, giving his brother a knowing look. “Andy’s horror stories got to you, didn’t they?”

A strange emotion passed over Sirius’ face, and he responded with more sobriety. 

“I was always meant to be godfather, not a parent.”

Regulus stilled, words crowding his throat as Sirius returned to his writing with jerky motions. He forgot the Potters’ death was a fresh wound in Sirius mind. Theirs was an abstract death to Regulus. Another casualty of wizarding savagery. The rest of the world celebrated the fall of the Dark Lord and Sirius mourned for his friends, the man who had taken Regulus’ place by his brother. 

He swallowed and averted his gaze, focusing on the letter in his hand. This note was much shorter, a slip of parchment with swirling letters asking for a meeting. No signature adorned the note, but it was not hard to guess who it might be from. When he discovered the horcruxes, he had briefly considered going to Dumbledore. In the end, he had not trusted the wily old man to have his best interests at heart. He had not even trusted his family when the time came – though his grandfather had proven his fear unfounded. Yet, others obviously held the headmaster in esteem. Snape must have made some manner of deal for the protection he received. Sirius had taken orders from the man all throughout the war. If not the Blacks themselves, Dumbledore was the one who could drive Sirius away from the family, again. 

The note went back onto the table, and Regulus poured himself more tea to keep his hands occupied. 

“Are you going?”

A hum of inattention from the other side of the table. 

“Sirius.”

“What, Reggie?”

He scowled at the nickname, gesturing at the note with his free hand. 

“Dumbledore. Are you going?”

Sirius set the quill down, tapping the parchment with his wand. The ink darkened, no longer glistening wet. 

“Later. Harry comes first.”

How vague. Later. Sirius had always been talented at winding him up. He knew there was no reason to keep asking directly as Sirius would only put him off. 

“Oh? Are you picking him up then? I did find the address curious. I don’t recall of any Potters in that area of Surrey.”

As he spoke, Sirius enclosed the form within a letter and pressed the family seal into the wax. A shadow fell on his face at Regulus’ queries, lips tightening. Regulus tilted his head to the side, eyes trained on Sirius’ expression to catch any further reaction. He had not said anything inflammatory, nothing that could have closed him off again except perhaps to tell Regulus off for being so nosy. Several beats passed in silence, and he was prepared to give up on this subject as well when Sirius finally responded.

“Lily’s muggle family resides in Surrey.” 

Loaded words and a tone that spoke volumes in a language he did not understand. Regulus waited for more, for some clarity, but Sirius returned to his earlier reticence, tense lines along his entire body. He called Tilly back into the room, thrusting the letter at her to send off with one of the owls. Regulus waited, deliberately loose with his movements, sipping his tea and staring at his brother. Patience was the best strategy to draw information from Sirius. Verbally arguing would spark his brother’s ire. Sirius was awful at holding his tongue when left to stew. Inevitably, he exploded. 

“The sister hates magic. James told me she called Lily a freak, hadn’t seen her in person in two years, and Dumbledore¬¬─ he left him there.”

Steel had entered Sirius’ voice, and his eyes burned with an intensity, practically feverish in a way that reminded Regulus his brother had been released from prison yesterday. Sirius had been unwilling to speak of Dumbledore, and now Regulus had a faint idea why: his brother was grappling with a crisis of faith after having his entire world crash around him, the only solid ground under his feet a little toddler whom remained out of his reach in unknown conditions while players on both sides removed masks to reveal faces he had never seen. Regulus had suffered the shock of disillusion himself and did not envy Sirius his position. 

“I will go with you. When you visit them. You will need assistance with a child.”

He surprised himself with the offer but did not retract it. His comment banked the fire in Sirius’ eyes, pulling a dry laugh from his brother. 

“And you know about children, or _muggles_?”

“Yes.”

Sirius stared at him, head shaking slowly. Regulus returned his gaze without blinking. Sirius huffed, hand scratching at the scruff on his face. 

“Fine. You’re a grown boy. When something goes wrong, I’ll have you to blame.”

Sirius stood, jerking his head towards the door. 

“C’mon then. Need to find him first.” 

He strode through the door, vanishing into the manor. Regulus sighed and drained the rest of his tea.

* * *

Magic flowed into the pendant, each new rune glowing as Sirius inscribed them. On his arm a similar light began to shine through his clothing. Sirius paid little attention, ignoring Regulus’ startled noise at the sight, and focused on his task. He could not afford any errors. His wand was already a handicap, not the best tool for this kind of detailed rune work. The silver coin offered limited room, and his wand was a clumsy instrument for the small runes he carved into the surface. 

On the last stroke the runes on the coin flashed then went dark. His upper arm began to throb. The sensation echoed the beat of a pulsing heart. Sirius’ brow smoothed out, body losing all its tension. The enchantment worked. He thanked his paranoia a few months ago, without which the magic would not have been an option. James had laughed at him when he’d told him what he wanted to do. Laughed but not stopped him. He’d spent weeks designing the perfect combination of runes. The pain of tattooing them on his body had been excruciating. All worth it in the end. 

Three lines of runes wrapped around his bicep, a reminder of the duty he had accepted – the permanent tie to his godson. He scooped the pendant up and slipped it over his head. The beacon would pull him to Harry’s location when he apparated. 

“Ready?” 

Regulus’ voice had a familiar petulant tone in it, widening Sirius’ smile. He didn’t bother to respond. Like Walburga, his brother hated being ignored, and Sirius had failed to explain anything when his brother caught up to him in his rooms after breakfast. Sirius had almost written him off when he didn’t immediately follow, but he had to give Regulus credit. When the little twerp entered his suite, he wore clothes appropriate for a journey into the Muggle world. Gone were the robes from breakfast. Sirius’ hadn’t thought about it as he’d already been dressed in trousers and a plain button down. 

As Regulus’ expression grew increasingly tighter, he transfigured a cloak from the wardrobe into a copy of his favorite leather jacket. The transfiguration wouldn’t last, and the cloak ruined, but it would do for the brief trip. Eventually, he would need to find out what happened to his belongings and go shopping for new things. 

“Let’s go.”

He grasped Regulus’ arm, focusing on the warm pulse on his arm. 

“Wait!”

The cry came too late. 

Seconds after the first crack of apparation, Sirius and his brother landed in a hallway to the sound of a high-pitched scream and clanging. 

Sirius inspected their surroundings. He should have apparated right to Harry. No little boy was visible in the narrow hallway. Stairs led up on the right, and several doors lined the space. He reached for the nearest one only to have it slammed open before he could touch it. A tall, thin woman stood in the entryway. 

“You!” A sneer marred the woman’s features, and she straightened imperiously. Sirius didn’t remember her, but she obviously knew him. Lily’s sister then. 

“You best be here to take the boy off our hands. How dare you freaks just leave him on our doorstep. He’s your problem.”

The simmer of anger grew stronger with every word. Sirius’ hands tightened on his wand, knuckles white with the force. The fixtures on the walls rattled. A hand clamped down on his shoulder as Sirius attempted to reign in his temper. Hexing the bint wouldn’t help Harry. 

Her face twisted further, and she backed into the room she had come from, fear creeping into her expression. A hand flapped in the direction of the stairs. 

“Just take him and go.”  
A hard nudge broke him from his tense position, and he jerked his gaze away from the woman, moving towards the stairway. He got as far as the first step before an irritated noise broke the silence. Sirius raised an eyebrow, head turning to see the woman. 

“Where are you going? He’s in there.”

She pointed at the stairs again. It took him a long moment of staring before he realized what she meant. 

His wand hand twitched. 

“Sirius—no.”

He gave a single nod of recognition to Regulus, striding to the door under the stairs. Inside a dark-headed toddler was inspecting shoes. He babbled as he built a tower of them on the floor of the cupboard. Sirius stopped breathing, eyes hungrily watching the little boy. Behind him he heard Regulus asking questions of Lily’s sister. 

At the noise, Harry looked up from his game. He must have recognized Sirius because he broke out in excited chatter, standing up on wobbly legs. One step. Two. 

Harry crashed into his legs, giving Sirius a gummy smile and reaching hands up to him. 

“Up!” 

Tears rolled down his face. Sirius bent down and swept Harry up into his arms, bouncing the boy as he did. 

“Hey little man, you ready to go with your Uncle Sirius?”

Harry nodded; his little hands patted Sirius’ face with a frown, smearing the wetness on his face. Sirius’ mouth trembled, a weak smile lifting the corners of his lips. 

“Da?” 

Sirius gathered the tiny hands in his and pressed a hard kiss to the fingers. 

“No, just me.” 

The smile faded when he faced Lily’s sister. 

“His things?”

She flinched at the expression on his face, nervously fiddling with her hands. 

“I already told the other one there was nothing. Only the letter.”

A sharp look at Regulus revealed he had it in his possession. Finished with their business, he pressed Harry’s face into his chest and spun on his heel. 

Harry’s squalling greeted him the moment he landed back in the manor’s receiving room. Sirius grimaced, knowing he had been hasty in his departure. He couldn’t stand it though. A moment longer and he would have earned his Azkaban sentence. The ever-present anger had not vanished with Harry’s presence as he hoped it might. Rather he felt like a tempered sword, cold hard steel ready to bite. 

One name burned in his mind as the culprit. With Harry safe in his arms, he needed to set certain plans into motion. He could not allow Dumbledore to have Harry again. Sirius didn’t even want to know the circumstances that led Harry to being in that cupboard, whether it was momentary or permanent. Dwelling on such questions made him want to go back and show that hag why she should fear magic. 

Regulus popped in just as Sirius managed to calm Harry. The little boy stared curiously, hands clinging to Sirius clothes. Sirius didn’t bother taking his eyes of his godson, wiping the boy’s face clean. 

“I need a favor.”

His brother made no noise as he followed Sirius down the hall, listening to his requests. When they arrived at Sirius’ suite, his brother excused himself and promised to do as he asked. Sirius collapsed on the couch still cradling his godson in his arms. 

A few moments of rest. That was all he needed. Five minutes of holding his godson’s warm body in his arms. Of breathing in the scent of his hair. Of green luminous eyes gleaming back at him. 

Five minutes to appreciate the moment. Of everything that had to fall together for the two of them to be reunited. 

Sirius kept pressing kisses into Harry’s mop of hair, squeezing the boy tightly. Harry appeared thinner, felt frailer in his arms than before. He hadn’t the faintest idea how to deal with a child as young as Harry. Much less one who had witnessed his mother’s death and been abandoned in a strange place for over a month. The two of them would have to relearn each other. Relearn how to live. 

“You and me buddy. It’s just you and me.”

Hours later, his rooms were unrecognizable. Several trunks sat piled against one wall. On a round, colorful carpet glowing with runes, Harry played with an assortment of plush toys and blocks. A stack of baby books adorned the coffee table, and a toy broomstick lay against a toy chest. One of the house elves continually popped in and out of the sweet arranging furniture or putting away various items brought back from Godric’s Hollow. 

Sirius did not even entertain the idea of going back himself. Perhaps one day when Harry was older, they would both go, but right now the loss was too fresh. One of the first things he’d done upon returning with Harry was send two of the house elves to salvage as many of the belongings in the house as they could. Most of James’ and Lily’s possessions remained unscathed: heirloom dishes, journals, knickknacks. The nursery had been most affected though Sirius was pleased with the number of toys and furniture that had survived whatever happened that night. 

While Harry played and the elves fixed up the room, Sirius went through what remained of his own belongings. Less than he wanted but everything he expected. Paranoia saved him again. His apartment and belongings had sold, but his warded safe remained undisturbed. Regulus had retrieved it, confounding the muggle whom had moved in. 

With a sigh, Sirius ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair to watch Harry play. It had taken an hour to sort all the papers from the safe. Any letters from Lily and James went into a trunk along with their journals and trinkets. Sirius had carefully drawn runes for preservation on the lid. A pile of their personal papers remained on his desk. He’d go through them tomorrow. James told him most everything, yet for he needed to be sure he missed nothing. For Harry’s sake. 

One letter sat apart from the rest. Two pages neatly folded containing a snippet he had paid no mind to before. Now it was valuable. His grandfather would know how to verify the information. Honestly, Sirius was surprised his grandfather had not called for him. The day was nearly over, and Sirius had yet to see the old man. 

For the best really. Harry cried and fussed when Sirius left his vision. Upon arriving at the manor, it had taken a good hour for the toddler to release Sirius. The elves set up a few basics under his direction, Harry clasped in his arms. Even ducking into the bedroom was too far. Despite the separation anxiety, Harry had not asked for his parents once. An old toddler bed resided in the bedroom, sourced from somewhere in the manor. Sirius had a feeling it would see little use. 

Approaching the carpet where Harry played, Sirius knelt on the floor. 

“Ready for an adventure buddy?”

Harry reached out for him. Other than the random babble he witnessed earlier in the day, Harry was remarkably quiet. Sirius remembered a rambunctious toddler, not the silent waif before him. Hopefully time would bring out Harry’s playful nature. 

Godson and letter in hand, Sirius searched out his grandfather. He knocked on the study door first, pleased to hear a voice respond. The door clicked shut behind him. Sirius stood only a few feet into the room, unsurprised to see the room relatively unchanged. His grandfather sat behind a mahogany desk, a picture from another time. Thankfully, none of the fear or hesitation from his childhood surfaced. He strode forward, tossing the letter on top of the papers his grandfather was studying. 

“You’ll want to read that second page.”

If he was hoping to stun the old man, Sirius failed. No reaction to his rudeness nor to the information in the letter. His grandfather simply hummed and handed the letter back. Sirius tucked it into his pocket. Harry hardly shifted in his arms, easy enough to hold with one hand in his stillness. Green eyes surveyed the room while Sirius stroked his hair. 

“I need to know if it’s true.”

“I am afraid Bathilda remains your best source. The Dumbledores lived in Godric’s Hollow I believe; thus, she would be familiar with the family. We can check Wizengamot records for any incidents. If the implication is true, most parties involved would not be willing to speak freely.”

“He wants to see me this week.”

His grandfather reclined in his chair, hands steepled under his chin.

“I am positive you have a list of grievances for which to yell at the headmaster. Tipping him off might see the end of any   
Investigation we mount.”

Sirius reluctantly nodded, hands tightening on his charge. The motion drew his grandfather’s attention, and Sirius fought the urge to hide Harry from his gaze. 

“Ah, this must be the boy-who-lived.”  
“Don’t call him that!”

An amused gleam entered his grandfather’s eyes. Sirius took a breath, intentionally relaxing. 

“He’s just Harry.”

“Of course. And what do you plan to do with just Harry?”

“Protect him. From _all_ who seek to use him. At any cost.”

A steely glare at his grandfather warned him to tread carefully. Sirius knew the elder likely had plans of his own. For now, they benefitted Sirius’ goals, but the moment they did not, he would not hesitate to cut lose. Sirius swept from the room without waiting for a dismissal. He had a godson to care for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait! RL has been very busy and with my last semester of school starting I wanted to have more of the story developed. Good news to the wait is that I have gotten ahead on the chapters. You can now expect an update every Tuesday. 
> 
> Little Harry finally arrives on the scene! This chapter really only had him as a side focus other than the reunion. The focus of this first arc is the Black family and the fallout of Arcturus' actions. There will be a small time jump in a future chapter and will go until Harry reaches Hogwarts age. Harry will become a more and more prominent character as the fic goes on. 
> 
> As always please R&R! You can come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://midnightfalling.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all who R&R! 
> 
> I'll be updating the tags as the story goes on so stay tuned for more. Future chapters will be longer as Sirius is released, and we move to the focus of the plot.


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